Significant Progress
by Liv Wilder
Summary: Spoilers for 5x10: 'Significant Others'. Based on the final scene. "She watches Castle's nervous energy spike giddily as he reacts to the relief of getting his life back in order, everyone back in their own little compartment; no bleeding between the lines, no comingling, separate boxes for everything, and everyone in their appropriate place." COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1 Intimate Knowledge

Disclaimer: Answer's still no.

* * *

_**Significant Progress, Other Than…**_

_Chapter 1: Intimate Knowledge_

Kate watches the door close on a significant portion of Castle's past, when his ex-wife swans out into the hall, trailing a lifetime's worth of luggage (baggage) in her wake. And while she expected to feel relieved once the woman was finally out of their hair, what she actually feels is a little bereft and a whole lot bewildered.

The actress' parting comments about why their marriage failed – that Castle ended up knowing everything about her, while he largely remained a closed book – set Kate thinking, spiraling actually, as he dances away towards the kitchen, chattering on about making her a smorlette for breakfast, his relief that no more of his secrets will be revealed almost palpable.

Kate lets her questions germinate and then begin to ferment in her brain as she picks at her food. She watches Castle's nervous energy spike giddily as he reacts to the relief of getting his life back in order, everyone back in their own little compartment; no bleeding between the lines, no comingling, separate boxes for everything, and everyone in their appropriate place.

And this is how she thinks he must handle it - having no father - yet still being able to be one of the best she's ever seen: he compartmentalizes, he ring-fences the truth about his feelings from himself, never mind her. He must do, otherwise how would he stay so upbeat all of the time?

* * *

He's been her shoulder to cry on, even when she didn't want it, her sounding board and confidant for years now. He knows about her childhood, stories about her parents, he's met plenty of her friends, he even _lives_ in her world day-to-day. He knows many of her closely guarded secrets, her fears, her weaknesses, he knows the details of her mother's murder just as well as she does – all the things no other man has ever been privy to or ever came close to knowing.

He's see her at her absolute worst - broken and battered and bruised and in tears, held her through nightmares, got help for her when PSD struck her down and she was at her most vulnerable.

He watches her sleep, has seen her naked in every sense, stripped bare in front of him emotionally and physically. When he moves inside her it feels like no one else; the intimacy they share, the communion, the connection, the ways they move one another to tears, to song, to fall even harder. She lets him see everything.

And _she's_ supposed to be the closed off one, the messed up therapy case in this relationship? The one with all the issues.

And yet, aside from the odd piece of advice he's asked her for with regard to Alexis, he doesn't lean on her for anything. Meredith is right – Kate is an open book to Richard Castle. She said he had enough information about her to write a million books by the time their marriage ended. He has actually written _real books_ about Kate Beckett, albeit thinly disguised as the fictional Nikki Heat. So, what happens when he knows all of Kate's secrets? How many more layers of the Beckett onion are left for him to discover? How long will she hold his interest and fascination then, when he gets to the very last page? And what does it say about their relationship, about how close they are, that he shares _nothing_ about himself, other than the day-to-day thoughts that pop in and out of his head?

* * *

"Kate?"

"Hmm?" she asks, whipping her head up from her plate to look at him.

"You…your breakfast," he says, pointing at her plate. "You've hardly eaten a thing. You're not sick are you?" he asks with some concern.

"I had mono when I was seventeen, Castle," she smiles, trying to throw him off the scent. "I think I still have immunity."

And trying to throw off this mood that's settling over her; this feeling that maybe she doesn't know this man as well as she thought she did, that maybe all she gets to see is the same surface gloss as everyone else.

"And…you're not feeling nauseous or anything?" he asks nervously, arching his eyebrow and giving her a look – a look laden with worry and panic.

Kate stares at him for a second, wondering just what on earth…and then it dawns on her, just _exactly_ what he's referring to.

"No. _No!_" she all but yells, frowning so hard her eyebrows almost meet in the middle. "My period isn't due for like a week, Castle," she whisper-hisses. "And then there's the small matter of the pill. So you can take that look of horror off your face," she tells him, still frowning hard.

And as much as she doesn't like the thought of falling pregnant right now, she likes even less the idea that he is clearly _appalled_ by the whole possibility.

"Good to know how you'd have handled _that_ news though," she snaps, jumping down off the stool, after dumping her linen napkin on the counter. "I'll set up an alert on my phone, shall I? Make sure we avoid any false alarms?"

"_Kate?_" he calls after her, looking completely bewildered by her outburst.

* * *

He watches as she stalks away towards the front door, where she left her luggage, in these unbelievably sexy, tight, olive green cargo pants, brown suede boots, and that loose-knit linen sweater, hanging so tantalizingly off one shoulder, the strap of her rust-colored tank calling to him and his naughty little fingers.

"Kate, please don't go? You've hardly eaten anything," he implores, trailing her to the front door, where she's throwing on a brown leather jacket that just…_oh_, has him biting his own knuckles, and…

"Suddenly lost my appetite," she informs him dryly, zipping the zipper.

"But…_what_? Did…is it something I _said?_" he squeaks, desperate for her to stay and sort this out. Because if she goes, and he has no idea what he did wrong, how will he know how to fix it next time?

"More like something you _didn't_ say," she mutters, kneeling down to get a scarf out of her case.

"Something I didn't…?" he repeats, exasperated.

And did she really say that loud enough for him to hear?

* * *

She needs to get out of here now. Go home, cool down in her own space, and take some time to think about this, before she says something she might regret.

"Kate, I'm drowning here. Give me a clue? I thought we just spent a great few days together," he says, sounding like the little boy she's helpless to resist. "Meredith aside," he adds, with that leftward tilt of his head.

Yes, and maybe that is his plan all along. His mother is an actress after all. Maybe he acts out this part to distract anyone (any woman) who gets close to him from learning anything of substance about him?

"Kate?"

He's standing quietly in front of her now, looking…worried, frankly. And she does feel sorry for him. He is after all the same man she's gotten to know over the last four years, even if she now realizes that she knows a whole lot less about him that she thought she did a couple of days ago. And they did have a good time…playing house, she thinks, smirking to herself when she remembers just _how_ he woke her up at six-thirty this morning.

* * *

"I had fun. Thank you, Castle. You were the perfect host," she says, patting his chest, and then toying with his collar as he watches her with worried, puppy dog eyes.

"Does your invitation to come stay at your place still stand?" he asks, catching hold of her sleeve as she turns away.

"Meredith is gone, and Alexis is still sick. Why don't you spend some time with her? Just a couple of days," she suggests, giving him a soft, sympathetic smile.

All while thinking, and give me some time alone to figure out what all of this means for us. What is says about you and me.

"I should go," she says quietly, stepping close to him, welcoming the feel of his arms as they slide under her jacket to encircle her, his hands linking against the small of her back.

"I can't help feeling that I've done something wrong, Kate. And I'd be really grateful if you'd just tell me what it is," he says, looking imploringly at her, then resting his chin on her shoulder like a little lost boy or that doggy in the window.

A long sigh escapes his lips, ruffling the hair right next to her ear. But she hardens her heart to it, and then pulls back enough that they are nose to nose.

"Everything's going to be fine," she assures him, crossing her fingers behind his back, but planting a soft kiss to the tense line at the side of his mouth all the same. "A little space will be good for us. You get to spend time with Alexis…"

"And you get to _what?_" he asks, a little sharply this time. "_What_, Kate? Go back to your single girl life? Is that what this is all about? You get a little taste of family time, and now…now _what_? You're running again?"

"_What?_ _Nooo!_" she says, stubbornly backing away from him. "Do not _blame_ this on _me_. We agreed when I asked to stay here. This was a temporary thing. Do not attempt to guilt me into staying, Castle. Because in case you haven't worked it out yet, that is the _fastest_ way to force me out of that door."

* * *

She picks up her purse, grabs the handle of her wheeled case, and heads for the front door.

"I will call you later," she throws over he shoulder at him, as he stands there, looking bewildered, beaten up, and forlorn in his own foyer.

Kate softens her parting blow with an apologetic smile.

"Don't worry," she says, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "Everything will be fine."

And he hopes to god that it will.

_A/N: Jeez, not sure where this little bit of escalating angst came from because I LOVED this episode, apart from a couple of lines I would have changed. But, hey, I'm never satisfied. Guess that's why I write fanfiction. _

_Probably a couple of chapters to come on this. Haven't forgotten 'What If' for those reading that story. The muse just grabbed me by the throat and told me to get this down. And I might need to take a deep breath before that story goes into M territory anyway. Love to hear from you. Liv_


	2. Chapter 2 And Wisdom Comes Quietly

Disclaimer: Still don't own a hair on their pretty little heads!

* * *

_**Significant Progress, Other Than…**_

_Chapter 2: And Wisdom Comes Quietly_

Kate sinks back against her own front door, dropping her purse on the table and leaving her case in the entryway.

Her apartment smells funny: stale, but with an added whiff of something vaguely chemical. It reminds her of the morgue, and so she wanders over to the kitchen to open a window.

There's a card propped up on the kitchen counter from the pest control guys – Bug Busters Inc. (_No bug to big! No job too small!_) - and then she spots a lone, dead cockroach lying under the corner of her couch, and immediately goes to sweep it up, wondering just what other little horrors might be lurking, dead, in corners and closets and underneath her furniture, desiccating.

Maybe she was a little hasty coming home so soon?

But, no. She knows deep down that she wasn't. Not after that little chat with Meredith this morning, and the stream of questions it set off bubbling inside her head, like a whistling kettle: nagging, irritating, and requiring her immediate attention.

She kicks off her boots and sinks onto the couch, letting her head loll back against the grey wool fabric, forcing out a long, slow breath, hugging a throw pillow to her chest.

* * *

When she opens her eyes and looks around, everything seems the same, but everything _feels_ different. Her furnishings, art, knick-knacks and collectibles, photographs, books and utensils – they're all still here, just as they were before she left. But something is missing.

It's too quiet she realizes, after a beat or two of heavy, uninterrupted silence. Too quiet, too empty, too lifeless, too…_Castle-less_.

She looks at her phone. Considers calling him, apologizing for her…was it even an outburst? Sweeping everything back under the rug. But this is serious. _They_ are serious, even Meredith said so, and therefore she needs to take a little time to work this through.

Doesn't mean she needs to do it alone though, right?

* * *

"Hey, Lanie," she sings into the phone, biting her lip, and then cringing a little at how faux-upbeat she sounds even to her own ears.

"What's up, Kate Beckett?" asks her friend, skewering her immediately.

"Why does something have to be up for me to call you?" asks Kate, playing offended, while her head is in her hands hiding her pinking cheeks.

"Maybe because you never call me on the weekend anymore. Not since you and writer boy have been _doin' your thang_. So I'm guessing his ex is still in town. Am I right? Is that crazy bitch driving you mad?"

"Actually, you're _wrong_. Meredith left for Paris this morning…_alone_. And I am sorry I haven't called, but I could really use a friend right now. Can we meet for coffee?"

"Sure. Let me just kick this lazy-ass detective out of my shower, and I'll be with you in an hour."

"_Lanie_," whines Kate, while her friend laughs at her down the phone.

"What? You the only one who's supposed to be having sex these days, is that it?"

"_No!_" replies Kate indignantly. "But I didn't need to know that Esposito is in your shower."

"Who says it's Javier?" asks Lanie saucily.

"How many other detectives do you know? And Ryan is _married_."

"I know plenty. Probably as many as you do."

"Yeah, but not in the biblical sense," argues Kate.

"Know more than you in that sense too. Castle's a writer, so he doesn't count."

"Gah!" groans Kate, grinning at her boundary-less friend and her determination to over-share. "Just meet me…meet me at Bryant Park, will you?"

"Fine, honey. See you there in an hour."

* * *

Kate is sitting at one of the little green metal tables beside a stone balustrade on the Sixth Avenue side of the park, flicking through an app Castle must have installed on her phone, trying to figure out the point of the stupidly addicting, childishly colorful game.

"So, what's this all about?" asks Lanie, appearing from nowhere and leaning down to give her friend a hug.

"Let's…can we take a walk?" asks Kate, feeling a little antsy from sitting in one spot for too long with too many thoughts whirling through her head.

"Oh, _a walk_. That bad, huh?" asks Lanie, making a tortured face.

"Just…shut up and I'll buy you coffee," says Kate, shaking her head at her friend, and then linking arms, steering her over to one of the park's little coffee kiosks.

"'_wichcraft_," says Lanie, pointing to the green and white sign above the coffee concession. "How appropriate. So, how _was_ the first ex-Mrs Castle when she left for Paris this morning?"

"Actually, Meredith isn't the problem. _Castle_ is," says Kate, flatly. "Or at least I think he is."

* * *

They get their coffees and start to walk a circuit of the park, strolling under the trees on the West 42nd Street side, shafts of winter sunlight filtering between the bare branches above them, casting long dark shadows on the gravel pathways below.

"So, Castle's your problem? What did _he_ do? I thought he'd be out of the dog house by now, if Meredith has finally gone."

"Meredith turned out to be fine. The night we went out to dinner together, we had a good time, just the two of us, compared notes. It was fun. I actually liked Castle _more_ after spending time with her, hearing some of her stories about what he was like fifteen years ago. This…less confident, _way_ less erudite, charmer, who suddenly became a dad and grabbed on with both hands while it turned his life upside down."

Kate looks a little dreamy as she tells Lanie this, and so her friend wonders just what the problem is exactly.

"Well, when you're finished polishing that pedestal you've just put your boyfriend on, you might want to tell me why you dragged me out of a warm bed on a Saturday afternoon to freeze my bootie off in the park."

"You said Javi was in the _shower_, Lanie. If I was interrupting something why did you even _answer_ the phone?" asks Kate, mortified.

"First of all, because it was you. And second of all, what makes you so sure I wasn't in the shower with him?"

"Because you just said '_bed_', Lanie. B.E.D."

"Oh, someone obviously didn't get any last night," Lanie whistles, ignoring Kate's correction, as she laughs at her friend.

"Actually, you are _wrong again_. And who says I didn't get a little this morning too?" smirks Kate, bumping Lanie's shoulder.

"Did no one ever tell you that boasting about your sex life is vulgar, Kate Beckett?" asks Lanie dryly.

"You missed that memo too, I see?" Kate throws back at her.

"Damn, girl, you are feisty today. Where _is_ Castle anyway? Hiding from you if he has any sense."

"Oh, Lanie," laments Kate. "I left him back at his place looking like a kicked little puppy," she sighs, dragging a hand through her hair.

"What happened?" asks Lanie, stopping her with a hand to her arm.

"Just before Meredith left, I asked her why she and Castle split up."

"Oh god, you didn't," groans Lanie.

"Yes. Why is that a problem?"

"Like I told you before, sweetie. The woman has an _agenda_. She was marking her territory by insisting on staying at the loft. Didn't she cause you and Castle _enough _trouble? Then you have to go and ask her for relationship advice?" asks Lanie, sounding incredulous.

"She was fun when we went out. Didn't seem like she had any agenda then. And anyway, she was leaving. She said she was happy for us, that she could see we were serious. Good together."

"And you _believed _her? My oh my," whistles Lanie. "For such a smart, savvy detective, you can be so incredibly dumb, Kate Beckett."

"_Lanie!_" exclaims Kate.

"I'm sorry, honey. But you and Castle are like babes in the wood where that schemer is concerned. If you wanted to know why his marriage failed, why didn't you just ask him?"

"Uh…I…because…I don't know," sighs Kate, staring at the ground.

"Better to hear it from the horse's mouth than that asses behind, is all I'm sayin'."

* * *

They reach the steps below the rear entrance to the New York Public Library, and eventually make a right, turning back towards Sixth Avenue, the air chillier on this shadier side of the park.

"So, what did she say that's got you all hot and bothered?"

"She said that being with him was like…like a deliciously sweet soufflé. That her life was full of romance and excitement. But that she eventually realized that Rick knew all of her secrets, all of her pain, enough to write a million books, and she knew next to nothing about him."

Kate raises her eyebrow at Lanie, and then points to herself, as if this should have some particular personal relevance.

"Ever think she was maybe just too self-involved to even ask?"

"Well, yes…I know that's how she seems. But she gave me a for instance. She said that when she'd ask him about not knowing who his father is, for example, he'd just make a joke and change the subject. He's been doing that as long as I've known him, Lanie. Avoiding."

"Maybe he doesn't like talking about it. Especially with an airhead like Meredith. Did _you_ ever ask him about his dad?"

"N-no," stammers Kate.

"_Well_," says Lanie. "He isn't going to tell you stuff like that if you don't ask him. He's been living without a father for over forty years, Kate. I'm sure it isn't something he thinks about all of the time. Plus, he knows you lost your mom. The last thing the two of you need are more parent issues to complicate matters. You've just spent time living under the same roof as his mother. Isn't that enough?"

"That…that's not the point, Lanie. What else don't I know about him? All I can think is that he knows so much about me. About my dad and my past and my work. He's with me almost every day, for goodness sake."

"Did he ever tell you anything about his childhood?"

"Yes," Kate smiles, remembering a few stories he's shared with her, most recently about his early Christmases with Martha, when money was tight and his mom still managed to put on the Nutcracker in their tiny apartment, about the hope that instilled in him.

"And you've met some of his friends?"

"His poker buddies, the mayor, some people he knows when we stayed out in the Hamptons. Yes."

"Kyra, Gina, Meredith," offers Lanie. "He's never hidden anything from you, Kate. And you know what he does for a living. Hell, I'll bet you guys have even had sex in his office by now."

"_Lanie!_" scolds Kate, shushing her friend and blushing when an old lady stares at them after overhearing Lanie's outburst.

"You moved in with his mother and his daughter while your place was being fumigated. He's hardly holding you at arms length. He already told you that he loves you..._twice_. Have you even reciprocated yet? And I bet he didn't want you to go home today."

Kate gives her a look, choosing to ignore the most incendiary thing her friend has just pointed out.

"_What?_"

"He only wanted me to stay to protect him from the redhead invasion."

"Yeah, and if you believe that, you're crazier than I thought. What do you two talk about in bed?"

"Nothing you're ever going to hear."

"I mean pillow talk, Kate. _After_. You know, when you're guard is down and you're snuggling with your guy…" she sing-songs.

"_Seriously?_"

"_Yes,_ seriously."

"We…uh…I guess we talk about his writing, new story ideas, scenes he's working on. Sometimes whatever case we're working might come up too."

"_That's_ your idea of snuggle time?"

"_What?_ I'm not like you…all mushy and sentimental."

"Yeah, but Castle is," she points out.

Kate bites her lip. Lanie _is_ right. Castle is the more emotional of the two of them, but he edits his act for her sake now. Trying to be the man, her rock, her entertainer and partner. Working so hard all the time just to keep her happy. Just to keep her.

* * *

"I…I..sometimes I just worry that he's seen me at my absolute worst and…"

"Stop right there. Doesn't that tell you something?"

Kate shakes her head at her friend, and then shrugs.

"What?"

"That he _loves you_, Kate. No matter what. The good _and_ the bad. This is going to hurt, honey, but you put that man through hell after you were shot. He was like a shadow for months. Now I'm not sayin' you weren't suffering too. But still he took you back, on the thinnest of promises."

"I know that I hurt him, Lanie. I just…I guess I want him to trust me enough to open up to me."

"He trusts you with his life, Kate. With his _daughter's_ life. Has it ever struck you that you might just be the tiniest bit insecure?"

"_What? No!_" declares Kate. "Meredith's gone. I'm over that."

"I don't mean Meredith, honey. I mean with Castle. You never asked me for boyfriend advice when you were with Will or Demming or Josh."

"_So?_" asks Kate, defensively.

"Ever wonder why you and I have had several discussions about Writer Boy?"

Lanie pauses to let Kate figure out the answer for herself. But when she doesn't, she adds, "Because he _matters_ to you, Kate. Because you're in love with him too and you don't want to lose this one."

"So, what should I do?" Kate asks, her voice small and curious.

Lanie feels such compassion for her friend, with no mother to guide her and a fiercely independent streak to do battle with even to share this much.

"Talk to him, sweetie," she says, with a new softness in her voice and in her eyes. "Go see him, and ask him everything you want to know. Show an interest in him, like you do so well for the victims and their families that you work so hard for. And if he doesn't want to talk about it, respect his privacy."

"I…I guess I'm just worried what will happen when he knows everything there is to know about me. That...maybe he'll get bored, like he did with Meredith."

"Do you know for a fact that he got bored with Meredith?"

"She said he knew enough about her to write a million books, Lanie. And look what he's done since meeting me…he wrote a bunch of books."

"Yeah. You said that already. And tell me, just how many books _did_ he write about Meredith? Hmm?"

"Well…none that I know of…directly."

"And how many books did he _dedicate_ to her?" asks Lanie, her hands on her hips, eyebrow raised.

"None," admits Kate, with a weak smile.

"Then there you have it, Kate. Or should I say _'the extraordinary KB_'," she grins, nudging her friend.

"Okay, okay. You made your point," concedes Kate. "I'm an idiot."

"You're a lovesick fool is what you are. Now, come here," she says, pulling her friend into a hug.

Kate squeezes her tight and then lets go.

"So, you think I should just…go see him and explain?" she asks, breathless already at the mere prospect.

"I think that might be best. And if I hurry back, Javier Esposito's hot little ass might still be warming my bed."

Kate groans and covers her face with her hands, before looking back up at her friend and laughing.

"Thanks, Lanie. I really mean it. You're a life-saver."

"He loves you, Kate. And you love him. Stop looking for reasons for this to end, and start finding ways for it never to stop."

* * *

_A/N: Big response to this. I know there are probably a lot of post-5x10 stories out there. (I'm avoiding them until this is done.) So thanks for taking time to read and review this one. Liv_


	3. Chapter 3 Come Away From The Din

Disclaimer: If I owned Castle, Stana would have won that PCA award last night. Don't ask me how. I'd just have made it so. She is still the brightest star in my eyes!

* * *

_**Significant Progress, Other Than…**_

_Chapter 3: Come Away From The Din_

Castle paces the loft like something caged.

He walks its boundaries with tireless commitment, only pausing when he reaches the walls to silently reflect, to puzzle, to worry, and then to turn and begin his ceaseless movement all over again.

Trying to outrun the noise inside his head.

* * *

"Dad, what's wrong?" croaks Alexis, from her blanket-wrapped spot on the couch, pale red head appearing from beneath a mound of even paler pink plush, a small mountain range of crumbled up Kleenex littering the foothills of the coffee table in front of her.

"Hmm?" he grunts, barely registering her question, only reacting to the sound she makes.

"Did you and Kate have a fight?" she asks, wincing, when talking even this little hurts her throat.

"Me and Kate?" he repeats, stalling, as he tries to figure out the same thing for himself.

Because did they? He's not even sure.

She said she wants '_space_', and he knows that's never a good sign. In fact, he knows that can be woman-speak for '_we are so over. Don't ever call me again you selfish, narcissistic, insensitive jerk._'

He sincerely hopes it doesn't mean that in this case.

"Is it because I'm sick?" his daughter rasps, spluttering into another Kleenex when a coughing fit strikes.

"_What?_ _No!_ No, pumpkin. Nothing like that," he placates, paying a little more attention this time.

He's still bewildered as to the reason for Kate's sudden outburst and hasty departure. But he's pretty sure it doesn't involve Alexis this time.

"But it is something. _Clearly_. Is it mom? I thought they got on great."

"They did," groans Castle, rolling his eyes, because that does _not_ bode well for the future, and now Kate has Meredith's phone number…

"So then what did you _do_?" asks Alexis, interrupting that little shop of horrors before he can really even get started.

"What makes you think it was something _I_ did?" he asks Alexis, affronted by her assumption.

"Oh, come on, dad. Letting mom stay here while Kate was here too? Hardly your finest hour," she scoffs, sounding eerily like his girlfriend, as she watches him pace past her again, the hem of his jeans scuffing noiselessly across the floor.

* * *

He's been trying to figure this out for over an hour now. They woke up this morning…well, _he_ woke Kate up this morning, and boy was she happy to see…

Yeah, well_, anyway_, everything was going along fine. He 'helped' her pack up her things. Which actually involved _her_ packing, and then him _hiding_ a few key items to delay her departure a little longer. He didn't want her to go, and she knew that. But he didn't push, he didn't cling, he just…sort of showed her, a little underhandedly maybe, what she would be missing out on back in her apartment all alone.

Yeah, well, fat lot of good that did. Because now she _is _alone, and he is…_distraught_ _and alone_. Except for Alexis. But since she's sick, that doesn't really count.

He recreates the timeline again, as if figuring out a case – wake-up sex, shower, packing, dressing, undressing, fooling around, redressing, and then…

_Meredith!_

He stops dead on that realization. She left her purse upstairs _deliberately_. He can see it so clearly now. What a gullible fool. All her fawning and simpering, and '_Richard,_ _would you be a dear?'_

Just what did that vindictive woman say to Kate to…to turn her against him?

They spent a whole evening together, comparing notes about god knows what, and yet when Kate came home that night she seemed happy, relaxed. Hell, hadn't she even said that she liked him _more_ after hearing some of Meredith's stories?

So what monkey wrench had his ex decided to throw into the workings of their relationship as her fond farewell; her little '_à tout à l'heure,'_ bon voyage gift to them both, before she swanned off to Paris leaving a trail of devastation in her wake, as usual.

* * *

"Dad, please stop pacing. You're making me dizzy," pleads Alexis, holding her head in her hands.

He had obviously started moving again, and he hadn't even noticed.

"Sorry, Alexis. Can I get you something? More water? Or tea, perhaps?"

"Call Kate. Can you please just call Kate and apologize, grovel, do whatever it takes to get her to take you back."

"What do you mean '_take me back'_?" squeaks Castle, allowing Alexis' words to feed into his own secret fears and multiply them exponentially.

"Just a phrase," coughs Alexis. "I'm sick. Take no notice."

"She just said she thought we could both use a little space. That's all," he says, trying to sound nonchalant, cool, totally unbothered by these words that are _seriously freaking him out right now!_

"_Space?_" gawps Alexis. "She actually _used_ that word?"

When Castle doesn't answer immediately, Alexis badgers him again.

"_Dad_? Did she use that word or not?" she pushes, grabbing his full attention.

"Yea'…uh…yes. Yes, I think she did," he says, taking his mind back.

'_Maybe something you didn't say'_. Wasn't that what she'd muttered right before she left, when he'd asked her what he'd done wrong? What on earth _hadn't_ he said?

Then something about him being a '_great host'_.

"Pfff! _Great host_!" he snorts out loud, while Alexis watches him warily, like one of those crazy, unpredictable guys on the subway who talk to themselves or some imaginary friend and scratch and twitch and make you want to get off at the next stop to catch a later train.

'_Space will be good for us_'. Yeah, that was it, he remembers, focusing again.

"She…she did. Say space, I mean," Castle blurts to Alexis, so messed up that he's looking to his eighteen-year old daughter for relationship guidance.

"Oh god," she girl groans, dropping her head into her hands.

"What? Do you feel nauseous? Are you going to vomit?"

"_No!_" Alexis moans, looking up at him. "She said _space_, _dad_! Your girlfriend said '_space_'."

"_And?_" he cringes, hoping it isn't as bad as he already thinks it is.

Kate is closer to his age than Alexis', but she's also way more 'street' than he will ever be, more youthful sometimes, he thinks. So, maybe Alexis' take on this will be enlightening, insightful even.

"Space is _bad_, dad. You do know that, right?"

Great, nothing helpful in that interpretation that he didn't already know.

"I know. I know, _right?_" he agrees, nodding vigorously. "Did Cosmo say that or something?" he whines, sitting down on the couch by her feet, exhausted.

"More like the _entire_ _cosmos_," she replies dryly. "Everyone knows that when a woman says she needs space it's bad news. Where have you _been_ for the last twenty years?"

"Wreaking two marriages," he admits grimly.

"Oh. Oh, dad. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"It's okay. You're sick. I shouldn't be laying all of this on you."

"Why don't you call her? I'm sure it's not nearly as bad as you think. You can get a little overdramatic at times," she reassures him, patting his hand sympathetically. "Maybe you just got the wrong idea?"

_"Me? Overdramatic?_" he blusters for effect, trying to divert from his current heartbreak with just a little more drama. "Says the girl who spent her childhood acting out plays with her grandmother."

"Made me an even better critic," argues Alexis. "Call her dad. She cares about you. How bad can it be?"

How bad _can_ it be, wonders Castle?

"Thanks, pumpkin," he says, kissing his daughter's overly-warm forehead, just as the front door flies open and Martha flounces into the loft.

"Grams. Just in time for Dancing with the Stars," Alexis croaks, waving her grandmother over.

"Let's show these no-talents what a real couple of high-kickers can do, kiddo," booms his mother, dancing and shimmying her way over to the couch, as Castle slinks gratefully away.

* * *

He goes into his bedroom clutching his cell phone, and sits down on the bed to think, to clear his head of all these nagging doubts, this negative thinking, before he summons the courage to call her.

One of Kate's hair ties is lying on the nightstand, and he reaches for it, stretching the little black elastic over his fingers and flexing them. He draws out a long chestnut hair he finds wound around it. The hair curls over his finger, and he unravels it, admiring the length, watching it glint in the lamplight, more golden these days than ever before.

He loved having her here to stay, loved having her bully him into going 'home' when he wanted them to stay in a hotel. He loved that she put up with his stupid ex-wife, even managed to befriend her, win her over, something Gina never managed. And yet she stood her ground, fought for her rightful place, despite every insecurity she shared with him about Meredith being more comfortable here in his home and with his family, and how she knew things about him that…_that Kate didn't know..._

Huh?

* * *

Before he can actually reach for his phone, the damn thing starts ringing. He desperately wants to get rid of whoever this is so that he can call her right away.

"Hello?" he asks sharply.

"_Castle?_" comes Kate's hesitate voice over the line.

"Kate? I was…I was just going to call you," he says, relief, followed by hesitancy, slowing his words.

Because whenever she calls him now, ever since they've been together, it's something good, it's fun, it's uncomplicated, it means closeness and intimacy, even when they can't be together.

Today, he doesn't know what her call means.

"You were?" she asks softly, and he can hear the smile in her voice, the echoing note of relief.

"Mmm. You okay?" he asks, his throat suddenly tight.

"I…fine. How's Alexis?"

"Giving me grief. So, on the mend, I guess. My mother just got back. They're giggling like teenagers over Dancing with the Stars."

"Oh," says Kate, and he can hear the wheels turning in her infinitely complex brain.

"Yeah, so…" he sighs, not wanting to push since she did ask for space, but wanting to push so very badly.

Kate clears her throat.

"So, uh…is…is Martha staying…? I mean, will she be there…?" she asks nervously. "F-for a while? Like _overnight?_" she finally manages to ask.

"Overnight?" repeats Castle, pulse rate spiking way past resting.

"Yeah, because I was kind of thinking that maybe you could…"

"_Yes?_" he interrupts breathlessly, ready to agree to absolutely anything as long as it's with her.

"…that you could come over to my place, and…" she takes in a gulping breath of her own. "And if you packed a bag you could stay and we could…"

"We _could_," agrees Castle, nodding and grinning into the phone, wishing he was with her right now so that he could kiss her and hold her and…

"_Talk_, I meant, Castle. We…we could _talk_. At least…first," she adds softly, following her breathless suggestion up with that nervous, girlish giggle he loves so much, but rarely gets to hear.

"Talk? Sure. We can talk," he agrees, grinning at his phone again. "I'd like that."

"Great. So, uh…you can come over when…whenever you're ready. I can call out for dinner when you get here. And then we can…"

Kate goes quiet, and he listens to the sound of her breathing over the ether, imagines it bouncing from cell tower to cell tower until it reaches him, and he thinks about how much he loves her. How much he wants this to work out for them.

"So. I'll see you soon?" she asks, with a hopeful lift to her voice, preparing to hang up.

"You will see me very soon. And, kate? Everything is going to be fine," he adds quietly, mirroring her departing promise of a few hours ago.

If only he'd listened to her then.

* * *

_A/N: Well, you still seem to be loving this. I'm speechless. On to the big showdown! *gulps* And I will finish 'What If' soon, I promise! Liv_


	4. Chapter 4 All The Ways You Know Me

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words that come out of their gorgeous mouths.

* * *

_**Significant Progress, Other Than…**_

_Chapter 4: All The Ways You Know Me_

Castle has his bag packed so fast that he almost forgets to put in clean underwear for the following day.

He snags a pair of boxer shorts at the very last second from the laundry pile Kate left folded on top of his bureau, before he does a quick pirouette around the room, mentally checking for other gaping holes in his list of necessities.

He spots Kate's hair tie sitting on the nightstand where he dropped it when she called, and he goes over to pick it up and deposit it into his leather overnight bag, meaning to return it to her later. But he hesitates, admiring the stretchy little feminine frippery lying in the palm of his hand, and he sees so much intimacy in such an insignificant little item, and even _he_ thinks himself sentimental right now, when he drops it back onto the nightstand in the hope that she will be back here soon to use it, sharing his bed, in his home, where he feels convinced she belongs.

* * *

When he knocks on her front door, after a send-off from his mother and Alexis that was filled with cries of '_Good luck_' and a helpful, '_Don't screw this up, dad'_ from his daughter, he wonders for a panicked second if he should have shown up bearing flowers.

But all too soon, her front door is thrown wide, and Kate is standing inside her hall, smiling shyly at him, still dressed in the same sexy outfit she had on when she left the loft this morning.

A sight for sore eyes.

She grins at him, holding out her hand when he hesitates on the threshold, grinning back at her. And they look like a couple of idiots, he knows, and he's so glad that her building is still partially empty after the fumigation, so that none of her neighbors can witness them like this – like two sacred-to-hell teenagers on their very first date.

"Well, are you coming in or…you gonna stay out there all night?" she asks, her slightly snarky edge thankfully breaking the spell.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry," Castle mumbles, hurrying inside and locking her door behind him.

"You were fast," she comments, with an arch of her eyebrow and a teasing glint in her eye, checking her dad's wristwatch for the time.

"That's not what you said this morning," he lobs back, with a pleased smirk, dropping his bag in the hall and leaning down to kiss her cheek, letting her take the lead for now.

Space.

Kate laughs at his remark, and his anxiety levels ease just a touch.

"If I tell you that I missed you today, would that count as an apology?" she asks, kissing him lightly on the mouth, no heat yet, just a reaffirmation of what they are.

She grabs his bag before he can even get the words together to answer her, and strides off towards the bedroom to place the bag at _his_ side of her bed.

This is progress. The first time he packed an overnight bag on his own initiative when she asked him to stay over, she clearly deemed it a little too presumptuous, and so she left it out in her hall until morning. He had to go out naked to fetch his toothbrush before he could even kiss her good morning, while she laughed at him from her little viewing gallery under the blankets.

So, it seems he's on the VIP list tonight, as they say, and he has a pass to get in.

* * *

Castle leans on the bedroom doorframe, watching her straighten up the comforter, though he can't see anything wrong with the way it's sitting already, and so he wonders just how nervous she is about tonight's little talk too, since she's not usually a fusser.

If he had more of a clue what she wants to discuss it would help. But he's flying pretty blind right now. So his plan is to listen for once, and only respond when asked a question. See how that goes…how long he can keep it up.

"Did…uh…" Kate startles when she turns around and finds him so close, watching her. "Did you want to eat _now_? Right away, I mean. Are you hungry?"

"Sure. I could eat. But what about you?" he asks, being so careful with her, too careful perhaps.

"I'm…uh…yeah. Yes, I could definitely eat," she says, with a sigh of relief. "In fact, now that you're here, I think I'm starving," she adds, with a shaky little laugh.

"You too, huh?" he says, knowing exactly what she means, since he's had nothing but coffee all day too, and his stomach has been in knots over this.

But seeing her is helping, even though they've resolved nothing yet.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Castle. For the way I left things today," she says out of the blue, sinking down onto the bed.

He stays over by the door, still letting her lead, giving her the space she asked for.

When she looks up, she holds out her hand to him again, and says, "Would you please come over here?"

He doesn't have to be asked twice, simply sits down beside her, jostling shoulders with her a little when she moves closer to him and rests her hand on his thigh.

"Ugh," she groans, dropping her head onto his shoulder and leaning against his side. "What am I _doing?_"

She asks the question out loud, with so much frustration and self-loathing in her tone that Castle assumes this one isn't really meant for him, and so for once he stays schtum.

"We had…well, _I_ had a great few days staying with you, Castle," she tells him, before adding the caveat, "Meredith aside."

"Understood," he says, acknowledging his mistake again.

"And…well, I hated the way that I left things between us today. And you probably have no clue what's going on in my head, do you, so…" she pauses, sitting up straight again.

"Why don't we eat and talk, and maybe I can explain myself better than I did today?"

"Sounds good to me," he agrees without hesitation, since Kate offering to talk is a major step for her, for both of them.

He stands and offers her his hand this time. She gladly takes it, stepping in close to him once they are both upright, and then she easily slides her arms around his back as she's so comfortable doing these days, and lays her head on his chest, letting out another long sigh.

"I'm sorry I'm such hard work," she whispers, while he strokes her hair and lets his fingers work their way into the loose knit of her sweater until he can feel the warm, bare skin of her back, holding her close.

And he doesn't care that she's hard work, as long as she wants to keep working for them. That's all that matters to him.

"You did just meet my ex-wife, I believe?" he jokes, kissing the top of her head. "Kate, you don't know what hard work is. And to use a rather well-worn phrase, 'you're totally worth it'."

She knows that he's trying to lighten the mood, while she's being as honest as she can for once. And it's this fallback on humor that strikes a cord and focuses her mind away from saying, '_screw dinner, let's just go to bed now and talk later_'. They need to fix this once and for all.

"Come on," she says, reluctantly disentangling their bodies with a friendly pat to his chest. "Let's stick to the program and eat first," she adds, taking his hand and leading him back out into her living space.

* * *

"What do you feel like?" she calls, with her head inside her refrigerator, deciding what to drink first, before calling out to order something.

Castle is in her office space, rearranging things on her desk she suspects, since that seems to be one of his favorite pastimes whenever he's here. It's almost as if he's marking his territory somehow, moving things around so that she'll notice once he's gone, and then think of him, even if it's just through pure frustration at having lost something he's managed to misplace.

"If you hide my checkbook again, don't think you're getting any wine," she threatens in a raised voice, though she fails to hide the smile in her tone.

He reappears around the corner immediately with a sheepish grin on his face.

"How did you even know I was _in_ your office? You have half of that incredible body buried inside your refrigerator," he risks saying, shimmying up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Spidey sense," she jokes, breaking her own rule for tonight almost straight away, as she squirms out of his embrace before things can begin to escalate.

"Elegant white? Or I have a rough-looking Rioja over on the counter?"

"What do you feel like eating?" he asks, leaning against her small island.

"I don't know. Just…food. Something hot and filling," she says quite innocently, looking up from shuffling through a handful of take-out menus to find her boyfriend smirking at her.

"Oh, you are _disgusting!_" she laughs, grabbing a dishcloth and throwing it at his face. "Here. Choose something," she orders, pushing the menus against his chest, before stalking off to the bathroom with his immature sniggering ringing in her ears.

* * *

"Ordered Italian," he calls into the bedroom, still too edgy to sit down in any one place. "Should be here in twenty minutes. I'm opening the rough Rioja."

Kate reappears, drying her hands.

"Great. At least if we have sore heads tomorrow, we will both have sore heads."

"Share the pain?" he says, glancing over at her while he works her corkscrew into the neck of the bottle.

"Something like that. Actually, speaking of," she says cryptically.

"What? Pain?" he frowns, checking her over. "You okay?"

"Mmm. Yes, sorry, not me. I'm fine."

"Don't know if I like the sound of this," he says, nervously. "I promise not to misplace your checkbook again. Please do not torture me before we eat?"

Kate smiles tolerantly, while he pours out two glasses of red.

"Come sit over here," she asks, waving him over to the couch.

She kicks her boots off and curls up in one corner, dragging a large throw pillow over to cuddle in front of her, cradling her glass of wine to her chest, so that he sees she means for him to sit a little further away from her for this, given the physical barriers she just set up around her.

He clinks his glass against hers in passing, murmuring "Cheers", before sitting at the opposite end of the couch with his back resting against the arm.

"So, you were saying something about pain. Though I have no idea why I would bring that up again," he quips uneasily, taking a sip of wine, lips quivering slightly around the rim of the glass.

And for a second or two she has no idea where to start with this. Everything seemed so simple and straightforward when she talked it over with Lanie. But now, the only words that come to mind sound negative and accusatory.

* * *

"Castle, I am…" she sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I'm fairly certain that I'm going to make a complete mess of this," she warns him upfront.

"I see," he says cautiously.

"Yes, and so, I'm…I'm warning you in advance. In…in case I actually do. Make a mess of it, that is."

He sits quietly watching her, as they both get increasingly nervous – him for the unknown nature of this little talk and the build-up she just gave it, and her for the many ways in which she suspects she could miss the mark and hit the wall with this one.

"Kate," Castle finally says, getting concerned over the state of her lower lip, since she's been worrying it with her teeth for over a minute. "Why don't you just say whatever it is that's on your mind, and then…I mean, come on. This is _me_. How hard can it be? You know me."

And there it is, in a nutshell.

"Yes, but _do I_? Do I really?"

He stares at her, blinking, waiting for some other qualifier to follow this obtuse remark.

"Do you know me?" he repeats, just checking he's following her okay.

Kate nods slowly, watching him.

"_What?_ You think you don't?" he says, laughing nervously.

She shrugs.

"I…okay. Well, we've worked together for over four years, and we've been sleeping together for…"

"Eight months. I know," Kate fills in for him. "But how well…I mean…"

"Kate is this about whatever Meredith told you the other night? Because…"

"No. No, it's not. She didn't say anything unflattering or indiscreet the other night. She might, however, have said something this morning that got me thinking."

"I knew it!" exclaims Castle, setting his wine glass down heavily on the coffee table with a sharp crack, and then slapping his hand on the arm of the couch with a dull thud.

"Damn that woman and her meddling. And damn me for letting her stay with us in the first place," he says, as much to himself as to her.

Kate is taken aback by his sudden burst of anger. But then if she's been worrying this thing to death all day, she suspects, from the look of him, that he has too.

"Castle…"

"No, Kate. Whatever it is that my ex-wife said to you, you need to understand one thing. _She_ doesn't know me as well as she likes to think she does. We got divorced _fifteen years ago_. And I am _not_ the same person I was back then. Hell, I'm not even the same person I was when I met you."

Kate is the one who is speechless now, realizing that he does have a good point. But before she can respond, he starts to explain all by himself, no follow-up questions required from her.

* * *

"I had this public persona when I met you, designed to fit the image my publisher wanted to sell: the playboy mystery writer, killer with the ladies, never off Page Six. And I went along with it because it sold more books, and it didn't hurt that it kept my little girl out of the public eye. I put up a front, didn't let anyone close, both to protect Alexis and to protect myself from the scores…and believe me, I know how bad this sounds, but the scores of women who were only interested in me for the money."

He pauses to take a sip of his wine, while Kate watches him with no idea what he'll say next.

"Kate, you know me better than anyone ever has. Do you even realize that? Because I don't think that you do."

She opens her mouth to say something in her defense, but before she can, Castle is off and running again.

"Do you believe for a second that Meredith knows half the stuff you know about me? Hmm? What I'm like as a father to my teenage daughter, _her_ teenage daughter, or about my friendship with the guys at the Precinct? My favorite restaurant, my choice of cologne, where I get my shirts dry cleaned? Hell, even what brand of underwear I like. Or how about what Alexis bought me for Christmas this year, and yes, _even_ how I prefer my coffee these days. Because if we went on '_The Newlyweds Game_', Kate, _you_ would ace these questions and Meredith would _not_ have a clue."

He takes a deep breath, while Kate sits there looking stunned, wondering if these day-to-day little details are the sum total of people's understanding of one another; if that is all there is. If it really is that simple to know someone.

* * *

But, no, apparently there is more - an even deeper layer that she overlooked.

"And all of that is aside from the fact that she doesn't know me on the inside anymore, if she ever did. She's never seen me react to some of the situations you and I have had to face together, or how fiercely we watch each other's backs, all the small ways we take care of one another. And that has changed me one helluva lot, Kate. Like being locked in the trunk of a car with you or handcuffed in a dirty basement with a tiger trying to eat us. How about facing a dirty bomb, huh? Or remember the time we almost drowned in the Hudson, and I had to take a shot…an _actual shot_ at you underwater just to get you out of the freaking car? Yeah, that was fun," he says sarcastically.

"Or…or what about the time we almost froze to death inside that stupid refrigerated container? And I had to sit there thinking you were going to die in my arms and I would never get a chance to tell you that…to tell you that I loved you, Kate, because you were with someone else," he tells her, sounding exhausted and heartbroken.

There are tears in her eyes listening to this, and she wants to go to him, but the shock of hearing his declaration again is too much, and so she sits rooted to the spot giving him a chance to say more if he needs to.

* * *

"The experiences you and I have been through together have made me who I am today. _You_ have made me who I am today, Kate. Meredith may have given me Alexis, but she passed on through my life without leaving any other lasting mark. _But you_…?" he sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "You are burned into my soul, Kate Beckett, burrowed deep inside my heart. I never thought I'd be prepared to take a bullet for anyone…but turns out, selfish jerk that I am, I was…_am_ prepared to take one for you," he finishes quietly.

"Castle, no…"

"Kate, please? Let me say this. It almost destroyed me when you went away after you'd been shot. I assumed you'd heard me in that cemetery and that you'd chosen Josh regardless. That I meant nothing to you. And you have no idea how bleak a time that was in my life."

"Castle, I'm so sorry. I…"

"No. No, Kate. Don't be. You wanted to talk, and so now we're talking, and actually you're right. It is about time we both got some things off our chests. We're eight months…_and_ four years," he sighs, "into this thing, and I need to be done pussyfooting around."

"Wh…what do you mean?" she asks warily.

"Since the night you came to the loft, the day of Alexis' graduation, I have been just so goddamned grateful for every day I get to spend with you, for every time you let me come here, into your home, for every single moment you let me hold your hand or kiss you, and don't even get me started on what it means to make love to you, Kate. Because we will be here all night," he says, laughing self-depreciatingly and then looking at the floor.

"Please, don't…"

She hates to see him demean himself like this, as if _she_ is a bigger catch than he is, and he somehow less worthy of her, because that simply isn't true.

"Don't what, Kate? Tell you the truth for once? Isn't that what you wanted? To _really know_ me? Well, this is _me_. This is what's inside my head. Everyday."

"I know it's my fault for not asking. I guess I just held you at arms length for so long, held everyone at arms length, and you're naturally so curious that the traffic went all one way. You're a writer for goodness sake. It's what you do. Find the story, pump people for information."

"Isn't that what you do too?"

There is a silence as the truth of that statement echoes off the walls.

* * *

"You're right. I'm sorry. Lanie said the exact same thing," Kate tells him, pausing to take a drink. "How can I do it for the victims and not with you?"

"Lanie? You talked to _Lanie_ about us?"

He seems surprised, and not exactly pleased.

"I met her today. I needed…I needed to get her advice after Meredith…after she planted this doubt in my head, and…"

"I can't believe you would talk to Lanie instead of just…coming to me."

"Funny, she said the same thing," concedes Kate. "Don't be angry. Lanie is your biggest champion, Castle. She told me to talk to you, to ask you whatever I felt I needed to know. She pointed out all the ways you've been open with me, how you've never kept anything hidden."

"But I want that to be _you_, Kate. Our biggest champion? I want it to be _you_. But you seem to want to listen to everyone else, everyone except us...everything but your own heart too, I suspect," he says, staring right at her.

Subtext and avoiding and humor, the totality of their old armory, is being blown to smithereens by Castle's honesty.

* * *

"Remember that crook, Leo, and...and that reporter, Miles Haxton? You remember him, Kate, _the murderer._ You meet _these_ guys, and suddenly you're talking about how we're destined to fail, how our relationship is going to implode, or how we're from different worlds… Do you want us to stop, Kate? _Do you?_"

"_No!_ No, of course I don't…" she protests vigorously, recoiling from the suggestion.

"Then stop doubting yourself, your ability to do this. _We_ are great together. And believe me, I have some experience in this field. Yet every time you have some irrational doubt – like the whole different worlds thing – I have this urge to ask you if you just want to call it a day, walk away, give up everything we have together. Because I'm pretty confident the answer will be no. But I want you to stare down that possibility, just like I had to a year ago, and see just how awful, how terrifying that prospect is. And maybe then you'll understand why we need to give this everything we've got. We _cannot_ fail here. We'd be miserable for the rest of our lives, or…or at least, I know I would be, if we tell ourselves this is just too hard and the difficulties stacked against us seem too great."

"I don't want us to stop. Please believe that, if nothing else," she implores him, her knees drawn up to her chest, protectively.

"Then start having some faith that we can go the distance. I can't always be the one holding us up, Kate. Sure, I'll try. But it's not fair."

"I know. And I do. I…I'm sure I do."

"But Kate, you're the one saying things like '_as long as we're together_' just the other night after you had dinner with Meredith. What the hell does _that_ mean? What am I supposed to take from that? Cause I'll tell you how it sounds. It sounds like you're not giving us good odds to reach the finish line? It sounds like you're already anticipating us falling apart."

"You're right. You're right. I…I'm just no good at this, Castle. I've never been any good at this," she groans, letting her head fall into her hands for a second.

"Well, I say you're _wrong_, Kate. I think you've just never been with _me_ before, that's all," he grins cockily. "And I think that you should come over here where I can reach you, so that I can continue talking more sense into you," he says, smiling at her when she looks up in complete surprise, at the change in his voice, his tone much softer now, warmed with a teasing smile.

"So, you want me to…_what?_ Sit in your lap while you yell at me some more?" she giggles, relief flooding her face.

"That wasn't yelling. I was being passionate about something I care deeply about. There's a big difference."

Kate stands, tipping the throw pillow onto the floor in her haste to reach him. But before she can curl up beside him, the buzzer sounds, announcing the arrival of their dinner.

"Ugh! Great timing," groans Kate, picking up the pillow and giving Castle an apologetic look.

"Comfort break," he says calmly, standing too, and then fishing in his back pocket for his wallet. "You get the plates and I'll get dinner," he tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he passes by.

* * *

Kate does as he says, mechanically pulling plates and silverware out of her cabinets, her head buzzing with everything he's just said and the magnitude of the direction their talk has taken.

"Everything okay in here?" he asks her, depositing several Styrofoam containers on the counter, and then standing behind her to massage her shoulders for a few seconds.

She leans back into him, sighing as some of the tension leaks out of her body.

"Yes," she says quietly, nodding, covering one of his hands with her own.

"Help me plate this up?" she asks, handing him a large serving spoon. "I'll top up the wine."

"I promise everything will be fine, Kate. We just need to work through this stuff. It's time."

_A/N: This was getting long and I believe there's still some more ground for them to cover, so apologies for the cliffhanger of sorts. I don't mean to be cruel. Probably one chapter left in this. Where are our sneaks? Liv_


	5. Chapter 5 Give A Little Love

Disclaimer: I own nothing, other than their words.

* * *

**_Significant Progress, Other Than…_**

_Chapter 5: Give A Little Love_

They sit down to eat at her dining table, making a production of laying it properly, distracting themselves for a few quiet minutes from the enormity of all the things Castle just threw out there between them with place mats and silverware and napkins and water glasses.

He watches her covertly while she eats in silence, that thoughtful, worried, pensive look on her face that he so badly wants to replace with her beautiful smile and her clever laughter.

When it comes to her personal life, Castle has learned over years of observing her that she worries things too much, feels things so deeply, and he wishes he could get inside her head sometimes to understand her fears and calm them with words more grounded in reality than the twisty imaginings of her mind. Her fears are informed by years of witnessing the worst that people can do to one another. And while he may be the fiction writer, she has enough horrifying material to fuel an entire lifetime's worth of nightmares.

But tonight he gives her all the time she needs, since he basically broke his own rules, and instead of listening to her, went off on the mother of all rants, purging years of pent up frustration and giving breath to all manner of suppressed feelings.

But it seems as if she's coping with his over-sharing, his information download of their last four years together, at least for now.

And so he watches her eat and tries to focus on his own food, grateful that they're making progress, since this is huge for them, even if it was sparked by his ex-wife's meddling. And he is grateful for the small things too, things he is determined never to take for granted, like sharing a meal in her apartment, curling up on her couch to talk, knowing that they'll be going to bed together later and that he gets to fall asleep with her in his arms. Mere months ago, all of this would have seemed like a pipe dream. Some days he still can't believe his luck.

* * *

She has these cute little salt and pepper shakers that she told him she bought years ago on a trip to Paris. A pair of little porcelain figures with their arms outstretched to hug one another so that the set fits together when not in use.

He watches Kate absentmindedly shake black pepper over her lasagna, and then put the little yellow figure back down on the table, several inches away from the little pink figure.

Castle quietly sets down his fork, and then he lifts the two little figures up, carefully setting them back down on the table in their intended embrace without uttering a word.

Kate watches him, her eyelashes flickering with every movement, acknowledging silently, with the tiniest of smiles, what he's trying to tell her.

'_Every time you break us, Kate, I'll be there, putting us back together again_.'

Because he will, fair or not. And if that is to be his burden in life, then so be it. Because as he already said, he thinks she's more than worth the heartache.

* * *

They eat for a good few minutes without talking about anything of consequence, other than to check how the food tastes, if it's hot enough, whether he has sufficient to drink, where her wooden salad tongs are hiding.

The silence eventually makes Kate a little anxious. Her head is filling up with snatches of their earlier conversation, and she feels a responsibility to contribute more than she already has; to share more of herself with him and to prove that she is in this as much as he clearly is.

But she decides to start with the one thing she has neglected far for too long; finding out all she can about her partner and lover, Richard Castle.

"Castle?" she says carefully, after swallowing another mouthful of Rioja. "Why didn't you and Meredith work out?"

Castle's head shoots up from his plate, and he looks at her, surprised and wide-eyed, clearly not expecting this question from her, or right now, she's not sure which.

"I…I don't mean to pry, so if you don't want to tell me…really, it's okay. I'll understand."

He pats his lips with his napkin, takes a drink of water, and then gently places the glass back down.

"It's just that... Well, I asked _her_ the same thing before she left today, and her answer sounded plausible at the time. But…" Kate trails off.

She blushes at her own burst of candor, revealing to him that she cared enough about the reason for the failure of his marriage to risk asking his ex-wife about their relationship, and, in turn, everything it tells him is running through her mind in relation to _their_ future together.

"But now you're wondering?" he asks, watching her thoughtfully.

Kate nods, forcing another mouthful of food past her lips and trying not to choke on it.

If she's questioning the answer Meredith fed her, he thinks that's probably a good thing. On the other hand, he doesn't know how she'll feel about the real reason for their separation and divorce, about what he's always felt it said about _him_.

* * *

"Can I ask what she told you?" he says, clearing his throat.

"Eh, sure. She…uh…she said that being married to you was great, like a wonderfully sweet soufflé," smiles Kate, unable to hold it back.

Castle snorts derisively and Kate pauses, pursing her lips until he nods for her to continue, promising to keep quiet until she finishes with a lock and throw away the key mime to his lips.

"She said that her life with you was…filled with romance and excitement. But that after a while she realized that, while you knew enough about her to, and I am quoting here, '_write a million novels'_, she said she didn't know enough about you to write a pamphlet."

"Are…are you _serious?_ She actually _said_ that?" he exclaims, throwing his napkin down on the table.

Kate nods slowly, smiling at him, enjoying his reaction and the burst of irrational joy that appears back on his face after the earlier angst and stress.

"With a straight face?"

"_Yes, Rick. _With a straight face," she grins.

"And you believed her? A million novels?" he scoffs. "_She's_ the one with barely enough depth to warrant a pamphlet."

* * *

He takes a swig of wine and then wipes his mouth on the napkin again.

"You're supposed to be a _detective_. Why didn't you smell a rat? She played you, my dear Kate. She played you like a violin."

"Okay, stop being so smug. It doesn't suit you, Castle. And…I don't know, I guess my guard was down. It was a pretty personal question to ask, and…"

"_Yes!_ Yes, it was. So don't you think you should maybe have asked _me?_"

"I didn't like to," she replies, biting her lip.

"Why exactly?" he pushes.

"Not sure I really want to say."

"_Kate?_"

"This is embarrassing," she confesses, resting her elbows on the table and covering her face with her hands, shaking her head while she grins down at her plate.

"Embarrassing? How _old_ are you?"

"Watch it. That's my line, buster."

"Why are you embarrassed by this stuff, Kate? I don't understand. You've seen me naked for god's sake."

"What's embarrassing about that?" she fires back, giving him an appraising once over that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Stripped bare, at my most vulnerable? Come on. We're supposed to share secrets, you and me. What about when we've been drunk? You could have asked me then."

"Maybe I was too drunk to remember…or care."

"After sex then, when I'm whispering sweet nothings in your ear and your guard is down? _After_ I've confiscated your Glock from under your pillow that is," he teases.

"Pillow-talk?" laughs Kate.

"_Exactly_. Pillow-talk!"

"Oh, don't _you_ start," she groans. "I already had Lanie in my face today, asking me what we talk about in bed."

"_No way?_ Well I hope you traded for nothing less than Javier's deepest, darkest secrets."

"I traded nothing. In fact she laughed at me when I shared the fact that we sometimes talk about your writing or casework."

"Mmm, well, when you say it like that it does sound kind of dull. But when you say it and you're _naked_, K-Bex, _you_ could recite the Yellow Pages, and…"

"Castle! You're doing it again," she says, putting down her silverware and folding up her napkin, pushing her empty plate away from her, a reproving look on her face.

"What?"

"Deflecting…with humor."

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that. It's one of the things Meredith picked up on. Got me thinking. Not that I haven't noticed before, obviously. Your jokes are kind of hard to miss. But, you know, your ex-wife isn't as dumb as she looks."

"More's the pity. Her smarts have a habit of making her mischievous and vindictive. I just hope Alexis doesn't inherit that side of her personality."

"Alexis is too smart and too kind to play mind games."

"I hope you're right."

"Why don't we clear this lot up? Then we can talk some more," she suggests, standing up from the table.

"Sure," replies Castle, and she can see his jaw flexing with tension at the prospect.

But he said it: it's time to talk about these things. No putting the genie back in the bottle now.

* * *

"Couch or…?" asks Castle, tipping his head towards the bedroom once they've cleared dinner away.

He rubs his hand up and down her back while she empties the last of the Rioja into his glass and then puts the wine bottle in her recycling.

"Pillow-talk, Mr. Castle?" she smiles, handing him the wine goblet and kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"We could practice. Give you something to tell Lanie, next time you see her."

"Don't be mean."

"Hey, I owe the lovely Miss Parish a beer after today. Whatever you share with your girlfriend is fine by me, if it gets us talking."

"No. No, you were right. _We_ need to get us talking, not Lanie or anyone else. Come on. Lets get comfortable," she says, turning out the lights and leading him to the bedroom.

Kate changes into a pair of cotton shorts and a black tank, while Castle strips down to his black undershirt and boxers. She lights a row of candles on her bureau, leaving just one small lamp lit in the corner of the room, while Castle heaps her pillows against the middle of the headboard and turns down the comforter.

The flames send dancing shadows across the exposed-brick wall, outlining the jutting corners and raised relief of each painted piece of masonry and hollow of mortar, like the blank spaces in a giant crossword puzzle.

They meet in the middle of the bed. Castle settles back against the mound of pillows, and then Kate crawls in from her side to nestle in between his legs, resting back against his chest.

"Comfy?" he asks, handing her her wine glass.

"Mmm. Perfect," she sighs, letting her head loll back against his shoulder for a few seconds.

She closes her eyes and then turns her head to kiss the underside of his jaw, so relieved that their day is ending this way, with them wrapped up in one another, when it could so easily have gone in a whole other direction.

* * *

"So, hit me with your best pillow talk, Writer Boy,' she teases, tugging his free arm around her until his hand is resting on her stomach.

"My…? Okay," he laughs nervously. "What are we…?"

"Deflecting with humor? Or reasons why your marriage failed," Kate prompts, smiling nervously herself.

Because she realizes that she really wants to hear an explanation from _him_ now, even if she is a little concerned what he might read into this sudden interest in his failed marriages and what it might mean for them.

"_So_…we're starting out with the easy stuff, I see," he jokes.

"Hey, I thought it was time? You said so. Come on. I'm asking, so get sharing, Richard," she grins, pleased by her own courage, wine-fueled or not.

"Okay. Well, when I was a kid… I'm sure you already know most of this. So, stop me if I'm boring you."

"Never. Hurry up," she says, nudging his ribs with her elbow.

"Pushy tonight. But that's okay. I like pushy Kate."

"Rick," she warns, since he's already deflecting again, wandering off-point.

"Sorry. So, I went to lots of different schools, as you know, because we either moved around when Martha got a part in a touring production, or I got myself kicked out, or money was tight and mother couldn't afford to keep up the fees."

Kate finds herself imagining that lost, dark haired, little boy while she listens to him tell his tale, and her heart aches for the Richard of his formative years. She wants to protect him, to nurture him.

* * *

"Making friends is hard when you're always the new kid. But then I discovered that I could make people laugh, usually at my own expense, and I never looked back. It was pure self-protection to begin with. But as I got older, it won me friends, eventually publishing interest when I met with people face-to-face, and it didn't hurt with the ladies either. Present company excepted," he adds, stroking his fingers slowly across her abdomen.

"Oh, I was not as immune to your clowning and joking around as I might have pretended to be," confesses Kate. "You're a very funny, appealing, easy to be with guy."

"I am _so_ buying a case of that rough Rioja tomorrow. It's way better than _any_ truth serum."

"Shut up. I'm sharing. Falls under the same jurisdiction as pillow-talk. And what happens in bed, _stays_ in bed, Castle," she warns.

"Unless it's with Lanie. Right. Got it," he laughs.

"So, anyway," he continues, after a pause, "the deflecting with humor thing is my avoidance tactic, as you've already figured out. But, I want you to call me out on it, Kate. Push past it. If I'm hiding from talking about something with you… Well, there's just no excuse for that anymore."

"So, then…how would you feel about talking about Meredith?"

"_Nauseous?_" he laughs, jostling her against his chest.

He sips some more wine, then puts the glass down on the nightstand, and takes a deep breath, after burrowing them deeper into the pillows.

* * *

"We married because she found out that she was pregnant, purely and simply. That, and I'm…a bit of a traditionalist," he sighs. "I know that might surprise you. But I felt compelled to do the honorable thing, and I wanted a proper family for Alexis, and…well, lets just say I had some family issues of my own I was trying to work through."

Kate knows exactly what he means by this – his unknown father – thanks to the recent reminder from Meredith, never mind his issues with his flaky, barely present mother. But she decides to bide her time on that one for now. Slowly, slowly, catchy monkey.

"_And_…?" Kate prompts, when he falls silent again.

"_And_ we didn't know one another well enough to be living together, let alone getting married and becoming parents to this wonderful little girl. I loved Alexis from the second I laid eyes on her, Kate," he whispers, leaning down to kiss her tenderly on the top of her head.

He settles back again, wrapping both of his arms around her.

"Meredith was…disinterested, shall we say, beyond the brief period after Alexis' birth when she was the center of attention. Fairly quickly after that she got bored with the demands of a newborn, and I took over most of Alexis' care. It was hard at first, trying to figure out what every different cry meant, what she needed from me. We were both pretty clueless, and my mother wasn't around to help much then either. I wrote at night with Alexis asleep on my chest sometimes, while Meredith gradually drifted back to partying, and then started auditioning for bit parts in whatever sitcom or soap opera would have her."

"Sounds like a difficult time," says Kate, sympathetically. "Were you guys happy at all?"

"_I_ thought we were, until the day I realized that we most definitely were not. Or at least, _she _definitely wasn't," he says, cryptically.

"What do you mean?" asks Kate, sitting up and turning around so that she can see his face.

Castle lets out a long sigh, and then rubs his hands down over his face, preparing himself. He drops a heavy hand to her knee and then picks up the story.

* * *

"I came home early after a meeting one day. Meredith was supposed to be looking after Alexis. Instead, I found her in our bed with the director of this low budget movie she was supposed to be starring in. And let's just say they weren't running lines."

"Oh Castle," groans Kate, taking hold of his hand. "I…I'm…oh god, I am _so_ sorry. I had no idea. Why would she _do_ that?" asks Kate angrily, genuinely shocked that an airhead like Meredith would wreck the good life she had with Richard Castle and her own daughter for a meaningless fling.

"I never really got an explanation at the time. I think she just got bored. She has a short attention span and she is needy and insecure. She said she was sorry, of course. Wanted to put it behind us. But by then things were already broken. I couldn't trust her anymore. She moved to Malibu and sent me divorce papers a few months later."

Kate is reeling from this news. Her old image of Richard Castle the playboy, serial womanizer, blown apart by this revelation. Now he's the cuckolded husband and abandoned single dad.

"To be honest, once she was gone and I got over the disappointment of failing to give Alexis a stable home life, it was a massive relief. You've seen her in action. She's high-octane fun for about five minutes, and then you want to strangle her and go lie down in a darkened room."

"But you _have_ given Alexis a stable family life, all by yourself. You should be proud of that," she tells him, kissing his cheek and nuzzling into his neck.

"Thanks. I wouldn't have things any other way now. But it didn't do my ego any good at the time, and it certainly put me off women for a while."

"Well, she obviously didn't put you off marriage forever. There was Gina too," pushes Kate, further than she ever dared before.

"Yeah, glutton for punishment," laughs Castle, bitterly. "We made great sense on paper. We worked in the same field, and you know how it is when you work closely with someone, and then…" he nudges her, "think you've fallen in love with them."

Kate coughs, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"So, you only _thought_ you were in love with her?" she asks hoarsely, bracing for his reply, the image of the two of them walking away together a few summer's ago still fresh enough to cause her a stab of pain to the heart at what might have been.

"Yes. I know now for sure," he tells her pointedly, tugging her earlobe into his mouth and then sucking lightly on it until she moans and pushes him away.

"Focus," she squeals, when he tries to have another go at her ear.

"I was lonely. And I got fed up doing endless rounds of dinners and publishing events alone, fending off a bunch of _seriously_ pushy women. Beckett, where were you when I needed you?" he whines, kissing her on the neck, and then blowing a loud raspberry against her collarbone at the same time he wraps his arms tightly around her, holding her firmly against his chest.

Kate squirms in his arms, laughing.

"Probably finishing high school," she jokes breathlessly.

"Hey, I'm not _that_ much older than you," he protest, while Kate giggles. "Bet I could still cut it with the other moms in the park. Me and a high-tech stroller. Or…or one of those baby sling thingys."

Kate clears her throat, awkwardly.

"I'm beginning to see how you might have rushed yourself into two marriages."

"Touché."

"So, were two divorces enough to put you off?" she asks, her voice sounding strained and tense even to her ears, as she pushes him for clues.

"What was it you said to me at Ryan and Jenny's wedding? Third time's a charm?"

"You don't miss much," she remarks, blushing.

"No. No, I don't. Not where you're concerned," he says, tapping the end of her nose affectionately. "And I'm gonna hold you to that, Kate," he says quietly, stroking her arms from shoulder to elbow, making her shiver.

"Castle…" she starts to protest, not meaning for things to get this serious so soon.

"We're nowhere near ready, I know. Don't worry. I'm not about to get down on one knee. But…maybe someday?"

"Maybe," agrees Kate, squeezing his knee.

* * *

"Tired yet?" he asks, checking the time.

"I…uh…can I ask you about something else?" she asks nervously, turning again to look up at him.

"Anything. That's the deal from now on."

"You've never talked about your biological father. How you feel about not knowing him. Did you ever try to track him down?"

"Wow! Where did that come from?"

"Meredith again, I'm afraid. She reminded me today. Look, I'm sorry to dredge this up if you don't want to talk about it. She…she used it as an example of how she felt she knew so little about you. And it got me thinking about all the times I've talked to you about my mom, or my past issues with my dad. And I feel so selfish for never asking you…well, how you feel about the whole thing."

"Hey, I invaded _your_ privacy, remember? The fact that we never talked about my father is…it's not your fault, Kate. I haven't talked about it with anyone."

"And now?"

"Now…?" he pauses to consider. "How can I refuse my beautiful, brilliant, lady detective?"

Kate gives him a long look, while he ghosts his fingers up and down her sides underneath the blankets.

"Deflecting again?" he asks with a frown, while Kate nods slowly, letting his off the hook with a sympathetic smile.

"That's okay. Take your time," she says, squeezing his hand.

"Okay," he clears his throat. "So I was five when I first remember asking my mother why I didn't have a dad. All the other kids at school had one. And I mean _every single one_. Not like today, when half the kids in Alexis' class came from broken homes."

"What did she say?"

"She told me that I was special. That I didn't need a father. We were a team and that was enough. Even at five I could tell the subject was taboo. That I wasn't supposed to go there."

"That must have been rough? The not knowing, I mean. And not being able to talk about it with anyone."

"Kids can get used to pretty much anything, given long enough. But I won't pretend it didn't sting. It's confusing not knowing where you come from. Especially with _my_ mother as the only known contributor to what made me _me_. And at that age I hated being different. I just wanted to blend in."

Kate wants to say something, something to take the hurt away, but the words won't come. So she stays silent and lets him continue to share his story.

"I was pretty useless at sports in school, and I wasn't going to get any better with no father to even toss a ball around with me in the park. So, I turned to books instead."

"Played the long game?" says Kate, smiling, tears glistening in her eyes. "Paid off too. You're one helluva writer, Castle."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"_If_ you continue your story," Kate replies indulgently.

"Okay, so my mother always insisted that she doesn't know who my father is, which clearly does not reflect well on her."

"When did you last ask her about it?"

"I stopped asking when I was about twelve. She got cross and uncomfortable, and you know how it is at that age anyway, you're breaking away from your parents. I thought I didn't need to know."

"And how about now?"

"After Alexis was born, I questioned a lot of things about my life, including my heritage, genetics, nature versus nurture, family ailments, all of that. Just like every other new parent, I suppose."

"Did it make you do anything?"

"For a while I tried to figure out what Martha was working on around the time I was conceived, who might have been in her life. There wasn't much to go on. A trunk full of old playbills, scripts and contracts that weren't much help. There were no love letters, no revealing diaries or photographs to go on. And she got suspicious every time I tried to question her about it. So eventually I gave up."

"So, you mean you went to all of that trouble to investigate my mom's case, and you've never really tried to look into your own?"

"When you say it like that it doesn't make any sense, I know. Other than…there was _you_. I don't know what it was about you, Kate, but right from the very start I felt compelled to know your story. And not because I'm a writer."

* * *

Kate is profoundly touched by this statement.

"You've loved me for a long time, haven't you?" she asks quietly, turning round fully to look at him again, letting her thighs bracket his hips when she settles in his lap, the flames from the candles warming his skin with a wavering golden light. "In so many different ways."

He nods wordlessly.

"I'm just glad I finally get to tell you how much. That secret's been burning a hole in my pocket for a pretty long time," he chuckles, brushing his nose against hers, and then kissing her deeply.

Kate wraps her arms up around his neck, settling into his lap, breathing with him and feeling the enormity of everything they've shared begin to swell in her chest.

"Thank you," she whispers, when they break apart, resting her forehead against his. "For being so honest with me. I will never cheat on you."

"I never doubted it for a second."

"Good," she says firmly, stroking her fingers through his hair.

"And, Kate, you know that I would never…" he begins earnestly.

"Shh," she says gently, touching her finger to his lips. "I trust you with my life."

"Let's hope we never have to go there again," he says, holding her close as she rests her head on his shoulder, humming quietly.

* * *

Castle slides down the mattress, taking Kate with him until she's lying on his chest.

They stay silent for a few minutes, enjoying the peace of the night, letting their minds wander over the last few hours' shared confessions, while shadowy shapes dance across her bedroom ceiling like ephemeral beings.

Kate finally arches her back so that she can see his face, interlacing her fingers on his chest and resting her chin there to watch him. His eyes are closed, and he looks so serene that she hesitates to disturb him.

But then he opens his eyes and smiles down at her, and she's stuck by the fact that she wants to know who put the startling blue in his eyes, gave him that wonderfully thick hair, his broad shoulders, his comforting height, his magical hands, and who made him so moral, intelligent, generous and kind, and she wonders if he wants to know these things for himself?

"Castle?" she says, biting her lip. "Will…will you let me help you look for your father? We could do it together. Only if you want to, of course. And I don't want to upset Martha, obviously. But she doesn't have to know unless we find something."

"You would do that?" he says slowly, sounding so amazed that his reaction momentarily confuses Kate. "For me?"

"Of course. Nothing illegal, obviously. But I'm a detective, and we have resources at our fingertips. Shame not to use them. What do you think?"

"Best partner ever?" he says, without hesitation, and she can hear him smile.

"Yeah, still got some work to do on that deflecting thing," she laughs, poking his side and then dropping her forehead onto his stomach to hide her own grin.

"But you love me anyway?" he immediately throws back, meaning nothing more than a lighthearted tease.

He already knows how she feels about him. He can see it in her face when her guard is down and she's tired and prepared to lean on him, to let him decide things for them, to take her home, to make her life easier.

Or when they make love, and she arches into his touch, clinging to him as if he is her lifeline, crying out his name as if there has never been any other. It's all there for anyone to see, in her gentle touches, her soft looks, her increased consideration for his views and opinions at the Precinct even. And so he doesn't need to hear the words, anymore than he expects her to say them.

* * *

But why? Does she _not_ love him? Of course she does.

She remembers Lanies' parting advice.

'_Stop looking for reasons for this to end, and start finding ways for it never to stop'._

And if he has been deflecting, she is equally guilty of avoiding, of hiding, of denying in her own way. It's time to stop.

"Yes," she whispers, turning her head to the side so that she can see his eyes glinting in the darkened room, flecked with sparks of golden flame, like the silky luster of tiger-eye gemstones.

"Mmm?" he murmurs, blinking, teetering on the edge of sleep as he softly kisses her temple.

"I love you. In spite of everything and because of everything, I love you, Castle," she tells him, holding on tight in case she simply floats away, along with her heart.

She feels him tense beneath her, his arms wrapping more tightly around her. He waits a beat, and then lets it go.

"Always qualifying, Katherine Beckett," he chuckles, though if he thinks he's making light of this moment, pretending for her sake that it doesn't matter, that it isn't momentous, then he's forgetting that her ear is resting over his heart when it soars to join hers in hopeful communion.

He lets his hand come to rest on her back, smoothing it down her spine as far as he can reach and then circling back up towards her head. He cups her elbow with his other hand, stroking his thumb over the smooth, polished skin surrounding the joint, again and again, comforting them both with the repetition.

"You are your mother's daughter," he whispers into her hair. "You'd have made one hell of a lawyer, Kate."

"I wish you could have known her."

"Me too. Me too. _So_…how about we try to get to know my dad together?"

"Really? I would love that."

"Thank you," he says, kissing her forehead. "No one has ever asked me that before. And there's no one I would rather do this with, Kate."

"Are we planning, Mr. Castle?" she teases, feeling silly and free.

"I do believe we are, Miss Beckett."

And they start to laugh, and the sound bounces off the apartment walls, rising to a delightful, sighing crescendo.

"We're going to be okay," she says, nestling into his body once more, as the laughter subsides, leaving smiles and damp eyes in its wake.

"We're going to be amazing. No doubt about it," he promises, with trademark confidence.

And there I still work to be done, but great progress has been made.

"Third time's a charm," she murmurs, letting her body go slack, as the undertow of sleep sweeps her out to sea, buoyed up by this new certainty that they know more about one another than anyone else, and yet still there is more to learn. Always, there will be more to discover.

_Together._

* * *

_A/N: And so we come to the end of this long post-ep story. Who knew that one loaded look (Kate Beckett I'm pointing at you), could lead to so many words! _

_Happy Castle Monday when it comes, folks. Thank you, as ever, for your amazing company on this journey and for all of your wonderful reviews._

_'What If' will be updated shortly, I promise, for those following that story. Liv_


End file.
